


The Lost Luggage Affair

by mayamaia



Series: Scenes from the Departure Desk [4]
Category: Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-13
Updated: 2012-07-13
Packaged: 2017-11-09 21:08:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/458437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayamaia/pseuds/mayamaia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The expense report won't be so bad this time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lost Luggage Affair

Sandy Fischer stared at her customer, so shocked that she forgot to be polite. "Illya, I can't do that! It's entirely against protocol." Remembering herself, she added, "...Mr. Kuryakin."

Illya leaned over the desk. "You do not need to actually lose the luggage. You can miraculously find it, and we can have it picked up. And I am certain he will suspect I am to blame." Speaking even quieter than before, he added, "Miss, it is urgent. He cannot be allowed to bring the suitcase he has packed."

He could see she didn't believe him, but thought she might be wavering anyway, out of sheer curiosity. A tantalizing hint might do the trick.

"Miss Fischer, we are going to be camping. We will be in the woods, for three days." He looked at her with an expression of grave seriousness. "Napoleon has packed five suits. And one tuxedo."

Sandy stifled a giggle. "He would, wouldn't he?!"

Illya smiled at her. "Yes, he would. Now, I have spare clothing, casual clothing, in my own bags. He will not go without. Or rather, merely without standing out."

Miss Fischer grinned at him, then bit her lip and sighed. "I still can't, Mr. Kuryakin. I'm very sorry, but I can't."

He sighed, and was about to nod and turn away, but Sandy's coworker Marsha chose just that moment to join the conversation. "What can't you do for Illya? I should hardly think there would be any such thing." She turned to greet Illya as Sandy blushed.

Illya answered first, "I was asking her to lose Napoleon's luggage for a few days. It truly was an inappropriate request, but it is necessary."

Marsha tilted her head and raised an eyebrow at him. "Well, I surely won't tell on her. And I'm certain that Napoleon wouldn't get her in trouble either." Sandy tried to interject, "that's not the point -" but Marsha continued. "Still, someone could find out and it could be a problem. Are you prepared to compensate her for any trouble she might get in?"

Sandy looked at her coworker in shock. "Marsha!"

Illya smiled broadly and asked "What sort of compensation do you think might be appropriate, Miss Millner?"

"Oh, I think a date would do nicely," Marsha said with a grin.

Sandy turned to her in outrage. "No, that is absolutely... no! I am sorry Mr. Kuryakin, for my coworker's poor behavior..."

"Oh not at all, Miss Fischer. I would be happy to buy you dinner to make up for any reprimand you might receive."

Sandy was momentarily enchanted with the idea, then slumped. "I can't. I'll do it, but I won't do it for any compensation." She shrugged off Marsha's elbow. "It would be too much like a bribe, sir"

Illya smiled more softly at her. "I understand. I do. I am sorry for making the request, you do not need to bother."

Sandy smiled sadly at him as he turned away, then focused on the ticketing paperwork.

A sharp elbow invaded her space. "Hey." Marsha said, her face fierce. "You are going to do it. If you won't, I will, and I'll tell him you did it."

"Marsha..."

"No buts."

* * *

"I know this is your fault, Kuryakin. I know you are behind this."

"Hm. And what were you going to do with all your fine clothes while we are supposed to be undercover, Napoleon?"

"They were for AFTER the assignment, Illya. After."

"And when we escaped capture with nothing but the shirts on our backs, what were you going to tell Accounting?"

"Illya..."

"When Budget is already breathing down our throats?"

Silence, during which Illya could clearly hear the glare aimed at the back of his neck. He smiled.

Napoleon finally spoke up. "You are going to foot the cleaning bill when that suitcase is found, or do the ironing yourself. And I will watch to make sure you do it right."

Kuryakin only chuckled.


End file.
